


Drowning

by ms_scarlet



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 1300 words of sex, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, literally entirely sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 12:23:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3120089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_scarlet/pseuds/ms_scarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started out as loosely post 2x08 but then it turned into nothing but sex so it can basically be whenever (seriously, it's literally just sex, there is no context at all)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

Clarke kisses him with the desperation that comes from facing down death and being left standing. Her hands grip his collar so hard her fingers almost tear through the fabric as she shoves him back into his room, kicking the door shut behind her. Bellamy doesn’t hesitate and slams his mouth against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair just shy of hurting. She devours his mouth like she’s starving (and maybe she is) lips bruising, teeth clashing, tongues at war and neither side willing to back down.

She shoves her hand inside his jacket, wrenching his arms back as she pulls it off. He slides his hand along her waist and, _oh_ , they feel like fire blazing a trail under her shirt and up along her spine as he holds her hard against him.

She sinks her teeth into his lip and he growls, the sound rumbling through his chest to hers. She kisses the side of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw as she frantically tugs at the neck of his shirt. He lets her go to pull it over her head and she flattens her palms over the smooth, warm skin of his chest and up across his shoulders before clasping his neck and pulling herself up to meet him in another hungry, desperate kiss.

She licks his throat, running her hands along his stomach, feeling the muscles jump beneath her questing fingers. She buries her nose in the hollow of his throat and breathes him in, drowning in earth and trees and sweat and gun powder (somehow so familiar she thinks it’s written in her bones and still strange and wild and new and _him_ ).

Her nails scrape across his hip bones as she tears at his pants, her fingers frantic for skin, for more. He yanks her shirt and tank up, trapping her arms over her head as he nips at her jaw. She rips her hands free and weaves her fingers through his hair, frantically twisting the strands and tugging his mouth up to hers. He runs his fingers along her ribs, leaving forest fires in their wake. Her breath hitches as he cups her breasts and his calloused thumbs brush across her nipples.

Her pulse is pounding, drowning out the ghosts that haunt her, until there is only his mouth, frantic against her own, his hands, strong and sure, gliding down her hips, curving around her ass and steadying her (he always steadies her) as she swings her legs up and locks them around his waist.

He walks them back, their mouths fused together, until they crash into the wall. The impact pulses through her, setting off electric shocks down to her toes. Her nails dig into his shoulders hard enough that she can feel the muscles give under her fingers. She throws her head back and she arches her spine as he runs his teeth up her neck, rolling her hips along the hard length of him. He growls deep in his throat and she can feel the rumble in her chest as he nips the soft spot where her jaw meets her ear.

He pulls back and pauses, the muscle in his jaw clenches as he looks her in the eye (she’s drowning, there’s so much, too much, in the look). He whispers her name, _Clarke_ , and it’s a question, a prayer, a declaration. She has no words for him, just a nod before she kisses him him so deep a tiny part of her that’s still able to think wonders if she can climb inside him (and maybe, just for a moment, feel safe and whole).

He wraps his arms around her waist and swings them around and they’re tumbling back onto the bed. He covers her body with his own, his weight comforting and solid and real and _there_. She whimpers as he nips at her collarbone before kissing and licking his way down her torso. She kicks off her shoes as he backs away, peeling down her pants and underwear, leaving goosebumps behind. The lights are dim but there’s enough of a glow to see the graceful way his body moves as he toes off his boots and pants and crawls towards her from the foot of the bed.

He runs his hands up and between her legs, gently pushing them apart. She makes an impatient noise and he raises an eyebrow before softly biting the inside of her thigh. Then he’s sliding his hands under her, lifting her, spreading her and she jolts like a live wire as his tongue finds her clit.

She rolls her head back and covering her eyes with one arm, the other clutching the blankets. He licks her slowly and deliberately, lightly rubbing the rough stubble on his chin against her and her hips buck, her knees falling back to give him better access.

She gasps as he slips two fingers into her and twists them around, searching, stroking until _there_. She cries out and his tongue presses harder, flicking over her faster and faster as his fingers slide in and out and in and out. Her breathing picks up and her pulse pounds and she clamps down as his fingers curl and she’s coming with a low, keening wail.

She pushes her sweaty hair back and looks down at him. He kisses her belly and looks up into her eyes like he’s been lost in the desert and has finally found water. She feels something break open inside of her as she reaches for him and he crawls up her body, covering her with his warmth, his weight pressing her into the bed.

He sinks into her and for a moment the world goes still and quiet. Then he drops his forehead to hers and his rough, uneven breaths mingle with her own. She cups his face with a shaky hands and he presses a kiss into her palm. Her heart is in her throat, she can feel it frantically fluttering and trying to break free (it’s not love, it can’t be love, her love has a body count and she can’t, won’t, _will not_ add his name to the list).

She closes her eyes as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and twists her arms around his neck, holding him close as he starts to move. She loses herself in the sound of his ragged breath in her ear, the feel of him inside her, against her, surrounding her and shielding her from the world. He rocks against her again and again and she pants helplessly as her nerves flare and erupt. She pulls her further legs back and moans as the new angle sets off tiny explosions with every thrust. A spark inside her catches and the warmth grows and her pulse races as she burns hotter and higher and closer and-

“ _Bellamy_.”

She sobs his name as she ignites. Her veins are on fire and her whole world is burning and through the roar his voice is hoarse and raw as he says her name over and over and he shudders against her.

They lie in the silence that follows, breathing together as they come down. He rolls off of her and gathers her close, holding her so tight she thinks she can almost feel some of her broken pieces fitting back together.

She buries her face in his chest and he pulls a blanket up, enclosing them in a warm cocoon. She feels the world trying to creep in around the edges and she thinks she should say something, she should warn him away (she knows she is the worst kind of selfish because there is no part of her that truly wants him away).

“Bellamy, I-”

“We can talk about it later.” His voice wraps around her, deep and comforting and it’s been so long since she’s felt this safe so she closes her eyes and lets go. She feels his lips against her ear whispering something she can’t quite hear as she fades away into the dark.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written porn before so it'd be super cool if you wanted to say nice things about it but no pressure.


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